


Driving Mr. Stilinski

by literaryoblivion



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [93]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Human, Boss/Employee Relationship, Boys Kissing, Driver Derek, Famous Stiles, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Pining Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of breath and a little sweaty, Stiles says, “That was close.”</p><p>His driver looks at him through the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised. “Where to, Mr. Stilinski?” he asks.</p><p>Stiles runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Derek, how many times do I have to tell you, please call me Stiles. Every time you say Mr. Stilinski, I think of my dad and just no.” </p><p>Derek shrugs and looks in the mirror, expectant. Stiles stares back at him in the mirror, just as expectant, lifting his brow a little until Derek huffs and rolls his eyes. “<i>Stiles</i>, where would you like me to drive you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving Mr. Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> Got this (sort of) prompt on Tumblr from an anon: "I wish you would write a fic where Stiles is a celebrity and Derek is his driver!"
> 
> Tumblr post for this prompt is [here](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/post/118265498353/i-wish-you-would-write-a-fic-where-stiles-is-a).

Out of breath and a little sweaty, Stiles says, “That was close.”

His driver looks at him through the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised. “Where to, Mr. Stilinski?” he asks.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Derek, how many times do I have to tell you, please call me Stiles. Every time you say Mr. Stilinski, I think of my dad and just no.” 

Derek shrugs and looks in the mirror, expectant. Stiles stares back at him in the mirror, just as expectant, lifting his brow a little until Derek huffs and rolls his eyes. “ _Stiles_ , where would you like me to drive you?”

Stiles grins smugly and slowly lets it fade as he looks out the tinted windows. There’s a crowd of rabid fan girls rounding the corner and going full steam ahead toward the car.

“Uh, I don’t care…” Stiles says, his voice rising in panic, “anywhere but here…” He looks through the back windshield and sees another group of fans closing in. “Derek! Just go!” he yells when one of the faster girls gets ahead of the pack, sprinting like her life depends on it. 

It’s when she’s leaping for the car, Stiles’s eyes wide and staring with shock and a tiny bit of admiration, that Derek finally floors it and skids away from the crowd, speeding out of the back alley he had been parked in.

When all that Stiles can see behind them through the window are the tiny faces of what he assumes are disappointment and sadness, assuming because they are too far away to clearly make out, he turns around and slumps back in his seat. He watches the cars around them pass by once they merge into traffic, unaware of the celebrity in the black SUV next to them. Sometimes he wishes he weren’t the celebrity in the black SUV, but he’s gotten too used to his lifestyle to give it all up for something a little more normal.

If he’s being honest, if he had been doing something more normal, and not doing sell-out shows around the world, he wouldn’t have ever met Derek.

Derek Hale, his driver, whom he definitely didn’t get along with at first because Derek didn’t care about Stiles’s celebrity status or the people he rubbed elbows with on a daily basis or the fact that he was being paid to do whatever Stiles told him to do. He remembers their first confrontation like it was yesterday, when Stiles had demanded Derek get out of bed and drive him to the nearest Wendy’s at two in the morning because he wanted a Frosty.

Derek, in the most annoyed and yet adorable face Stiles had ever seen, hair matted on one side, in soft-looking sweat pants and a tank top, had shoved the keys in Stiles’s hands and told him to get his own damn Frosty. Then he’d turned around and went back to his own private suite on the other side of the house.

Stiles had been pissed at first, not gonna lie, but he’d also kind of loved it, loved Derek or at least started to. And now… well now he bugged Derek every chance he could while secretly pining for him and wishing that circumstances were different.

“Have you decided where you want to go, or am I driving the interstate up to Washington?” Derek says, breaking Stiles from his thoughts.

Stiles leans forward in his seat to rest his forearms on the back of Derek’s chair, something he knows Derek hates. “Would you mind going to Washington? It could be fun, right? We could go to that fish place people talk about all the time in Seattle. Get some pot…”

“You don’t have to go to Seattle to get pot.”

“No, but…. it’d be legal and easier to get.”

“You really want pot?” Derek asks, eyes flicking to the side to catch Stiles’s reaction.

“No,” Stiles finally admits after a beat. “I want to do something fun, go somewhere where I can just… be. Where no one will recognize me, you know.”

Derek hums, eyes focused on the road. “Not sure Washington is that place.”

Stiles nods and leans back to think and then springs forward again. “Where do you want to go?” he says with a grin.

Derek’s brow furrows and he frowns. “It doesn’t matter where I want to go.”

“Of course it does,” Stiles scoffs. “If you didn’t have to drive me, if you could go somewhere just to be, where would you go?”

In the mirror, Stiles can see Derek bite his bottom lip like he’s unsure whether or not to answer truthfully. “There was this grove of trees I used to go to in the preserve behind my house when I was younger. It was always… peaceful and secluded.”

Stiles smiles softly, happy to receive any tidbit of personal information Derek doles out. It’s rare, and Derek mostly keeps to himself, but sometimes he shares little parts of himself with Stiles when they’re alone; it’s these moments and facts that Stiles craves, that help him fall just a little more in love with his trusty driver.

“Can we… could you show me sometime? It sounds… nice,” Stiles asks tentatively.

Derek pauses and then nods. “We could… you don’t have another appearance until tonight. I didn’t grow up too far from here. We could go now? If you want?” Derek asks, looking back at Stiles through the mirror, his eyes revealing how vulnerable he’s feeling.

Stiles beams. “I’d really like that.”

~

They pick up fast food before driving to Derek’s hometown. Stiles had moved up to the passenger seat when they got food, and Derek at first seemed uncomfortable about it but has since relaxed, pointing out the school he used to attend, where he’d had his first date, his favorite restaurant as they drive by. Stiles loves every minute of it and asks Derek all kinds of questions about his childhood, and in rare form, Derek willingly dispenses answers. Stiles thinks it’s because of the seat change, that in the front with Derek he’s not Derek’s employer but a friend? Either way, he’s not complaining about all the new information he learns about Derek.

The drive into the preserve is quiet, the trees clouding the sun as they get further in. Derek drives as far as the dirt road will allow before stopping the car and turning off the engine.

“It’s just a little further, but we’ll have to walk,” Derek says, pulling the keys out of the ignition, pocketing them, and glancing down at Stiles’s shoes, which are definitely not appropriate for any sort of hiking, but hey, he ran away from a bunch of fangirls in them, so they’re perfectly fine for this.

He tries to scowl at Derek for judging his footwear, but Derek is already getting out of the car, their bag of fast food in hand. Stiles grabs their drinks from the cupholder and exits the car himself. He follows Derek who is already a few feet ahead of him, his steps sure, like he remembers exactly the way to go.

There’s a nice breeze that rustles the bright green leaves as they walk, and a few birds chirping from a distance fill the comfortable silence between them as they walk. Stiles wants to quicken his pace so they are side by side, but he feels odd about it, like the first person that should enter the grove should be Derek alone.

It’s only a few minutes until they get there, and Stiles stands on the outskirts, watching as Derek steps into the space and looks around like he’s trying to remember if anything has changed since he’d been there. He looks back at Stiles expectantly, and Stiles smiles softly as he enters, the grass giving beneath his feet.

Stiles walks to the center of the open space, and Derek follows with the bag of food clutched tight in his hand.

“I should have brought a blanket or something,” Derek says, looking down at the damp grass around him.

Stiles shrugs, “It’s alright,” he says before plopping down in front of Derek, nearly knocking the drinks from his hand before he sets them down. “I’ll change when we get back.”

“What about me?” Derek asks, slowly lowering himself down to sit next to Stiles, setting the bag down between them.

“You can borrow something,” he says with a wink, and Derek honest to god blushes. Why did Stiles think eating alone in a secluded area with the man he’s in love with was a good idea?

“I doubt anything you have would fit me. Some of those things they put you in barely fit you.”

Stiles grins. “It’s nice to know you’ve been looking.” And there he goes again, blushing. “I’m sure we could find something.” He pulls out his burger from the bag and hands the remaining one to Derek.

They eat, mouths too full to talk, but Stiles still tries, to which Derek rolls his eyes and mutters things like he can’t believe he has girls chasing after him and if they only knew how he ate, they wouldn’t.

“I’ll have you know there are plenty of TMZ photos of me stuffing my face, and they still love me. I’m adorable,” Stiles says, using the fry in his hand to point at Derek in emphasis.

Derek shrugs and then leans over and takes a bite of the fry Stiles has in front of his face. He chews and then freezes when he sees Stiles’s look of shock. They both stare, Stiles at Derek’s mouth, positive that Derek must see the lust and want in his eyes, and Derek at Stiles’s face like he can figure out what Stiles is thinking or what he might do. The moment seems to stretch between them, and Stiles desperately wants to lean forward and kiss Derek, to wipe away the insecurity he sees in Derek’s eyes. Instead, he quickly replaces it with a frown and scrunch of his nose, and Derek relaxes again, a smug smile on his lips.

“Derek?”

“Hmm?” he hums, finishing off his soda and balling up the empty wrapper from his burger and tossing it in the bag.

“Thanks for bringing me here. It was nice. I’m glad you shared this place with me.”

Derek’s lips quirk up slight and he nods. “You’re welcome.” He looks down at his watch and frowns. “We should probably go. Your manager will kill me if you’re late,” he says as he stands up from the ground.

Stiles sighs and reluctantly follows suit, picking up his trash and stuffing it all in the bag. He wishes he didn’t have somewhere to be because if he could, he’d spend the whole day sitting next to Derek in the grove. For the first time in a long time he felt normal, like he wasn’t some big name celebrity with adoring fans and a team of people telling him what to do or wear or say or where to be. He was just Stiles, sharing a peaceful moment with someone just as beautiful as the surroundings.

The whole way to the car Stiles laments to himself about not saying something, about letting the moment between them pass. Once at the car, Derek unlocks the door and starts to move around to the driver’s side but stops when he notices Stiles still standing there, door unopened.

Derek huffs and comes back around. “I can’t believe you’re making me open your door when no one is even around,” he huffs, reaching to open Stiles’s door.

Stiles shakes his head and stops Derek from opening the door with a hand on Derek’s. He should probably recoil his hand, but if he doesn’t do something, say something to Derek now, he’s not sure when he’ll get another chance. So he leaves his hand on Derek’s, and Derek stares down at their hands, brow furrowed in what Stiles hopes is curiosity not disgust.

“Do you… um… do you like being my driver?”

Derek’s eyes leave their hands to meet Stiles’s eyes, and Derek lifts one shoulder. “Mostly.”

Stiles bites his lip and lets his fingers trail over the back of Derek’s hand as he lets his own fall to his side. “Do you wish you weren’t my driver?”

Derek inhales slowly. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Stiles asks, hoping Derek will give him more than that. “Like when?” he adds when Derek doesn’t.

Derek exhales and looks up to the sky before lowering his gaze back to Stiles. “Like when you wake me up at ungodly hours to take you places, or when I have to sit in some secluded alley to wait for you, or when I have to dodge fans and press and traffic.”

Stiles frowns, bobbing his head in understanding, watching his feet as he scuffs the toe of his shoe in the dirt. His head snaps up when he sees Derek take a step closer to him.

“Or when,” Derek says, taking another step in Stiles’s space, “you’re flushed and breathless right after a show with your tie loose and the first few buttons of your shirt undone, or when your hair’s a mess and you can barely keep your eyes open when you first wake up.”

He lifts a hand to cup Stiles’s cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the curve of Stiles’s bottom lip. Stiles’s eyes flutter shut briefly when he does, his breath held in as Derek continues, “Or when your lips are red and swollen because you've been biting them because you’re nervous before an interview or appearance, and all I can think about is kissing them.”

Stiles lets out a shallow breath. “Derek,” he whispers out before curling a fist in Derek’s shirt and pulling, smashing their lips together.

It doesn’t take long for the shock of the move to subside, and Derek to kiss back fervently, both hands cupping Stiles’s face while Stiles still has Derek’s shirt in his fist, the other hand on the back of Derek’s head, fingers in his hair. They continue licking and nipping and sucking on each other’s lips until they are both breathless, foreheads resting against each other.

Stiles grins and whispers against Derek’s lips, “You’re fired.”

Derek lets out a chuckle. “You going to drive yourself back?” he asks, leaning back enough to look at Stiles.

Stiles scrunches his nose. “Okay, drive me back, and then you’re fired.”

Derek smirks and leans in to give one more kiss to Stiles. “Whatever you say, Mr. Stilinski.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


End file.
